


I Hate Her

by MrFroboto



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Anxiety, Crying, F/F, Funeral, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrFroboto/pseuds/MrFroboto
Summary: It's Dia's turn to speak during her wife's funeral, and she refuses to cry.





	I Hate Her

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time doing present tense. It's weird to say the least. So if you see any problems, don't be afraid to notify me. Please enjoy!

You walks away from the pulpit practically screaming, tears coming from her eyes like a faucet not completely turned off. Riko comes behind her and helps walk her back to her seat. I smirk. Sure You may have been Chika’s best friend since they were young, but I was her wife and you won’t see me acting like a fool in front of all of those people. I gloss over my speech one final time before throwing it away and walking up to the pulpit. _You can do this Dia._

There is an awkward silence in the air. I absorb all of the faces staring at me, every fiber of my very soul, yelling at me to leave now. However, one thought shoves it’s way to the front of my mind. _Do it for her dammit._ I steel my resolve, take a deep breath and begin to speak.

“Chika was… unique. She did things her own way no matter who was looking. Hell, perhaps those people staring at her drove her to do her thing even more. So it was a huge surprise when she proposed to me all of those years back. I’m an introvert with a pessimistic viewpoint and extremely high anxiety. She is an extrovert who sees the positive side of every situation. I'm the complete opposite of her and yet we loved each other dearly until her early end.” My voice chokes near the end of the sentence, but I quickly regain my composure.

“So in honor of my wife Takami Chika, I decided to do my speech differently, just how she did everything differently. I, Kurosawa Dia, am going to tell you all every last thing I hated about her.” A small collection of gasps elicit from the crowd. I scan the audience, seeing a couple confused faces and hearing a few half-hearted laughs. My heart clenches when I see You’s cold glare. We had a falling out when I started to date Chika in her last year of highschool, turns out You had feelings for Chika as well. However, with age we both matured and I can now call her an acquaintance once again, but I will probably never get to the point of calling her a friend again. She probably hates me now more than ever, and probably blames me for Chika’s death. _Come now Dia! You know that’s not true! Afterall, you expected everyone’s reaction, including You’s._ I breathe a deep breath and continue my speech accordingly.

“Chika had a big heart, but it was too big. She cared for everyone so much which lead to self destructive habits and behaviors. If a friend was going through a rough patch, Chika would spend as much time as she deemed necessary to comfort that person. This could lead her to coming home emotionally drained, leaving me to deal with all of the negative emotions she absorbed throughout the day which was… exhausting to say the least. Not only that but at least five times has Chika come home to tell me that she got fired because she was helping someone with something instead of showing up to work on time.” I notice a couple smiles in the audience and nods in agreement. _It’s working._ I continue.

“Many times have dates been postponed or even canceled because Chika was helping a kid find a lost pet, or teaching them how to ride a bike,” My heart starts to sink a little as her smiling face floods my memories. _No no no. You have a speech to do! Focus!_

“Chika was also easily excitable. Quick to get hooked on some new big thing, and then drop it even quicker. I really started to learn about this trait when she begged me to buy her a saxophone. She got on her hands and knees twice for me to help her buy a saxophone. So I do. I get her a student level saxophone for 672 dollars and 38 cents. Two months into lessons and she decides that the accordion is her true passion. Another 322 dollars and 74 cents later she is certain that the keyboard is what she was born to play. And I only bought it because we found it at a garage sale for 60 bucks. My limit was when she wanted me to get her a god damn theremin. A theremin! Do any of you even know what that is? Me neither, I just know that they are anywhere between 150 and 500 dollars!” The group of mourners are starting to laugh a little. It felt… wrong to me, but I continued. 

“And the cherry on top was when Chika wanted to learn the English language. I asked why and she told me--and I am not lying about this--so she can understand American rap,” That receives a good amount of laughter. I try my best to simply relay the speech without thinking about her. It’s hard, but I continue. “I told her that there was no way that I was going to buy a language learning subscription just so she can drop it in a couple of weeks. So what does she do? She goes to our international travelling friend Mari and begs her to teach her! And somehow she actually gets her to teach her! Not only that, but as if to spite me, Chika actually learned English! So not only did I end up having three instruments in my house just gathering dust, but on a daily basis I would hear Chika’s rapping through the hallways.” The laughter continues. You’s face even starts to lighten up, but only for a second. _Keep going, it’s what she would have wanted._

“And she was so fragile too. She would come home at least once a month with a sprain or pull or fracture of some sort from all of her dancing. And yet she would always insist that she was fine to go teach her students within two days. It may not seem like it, but she was emotionally fragile too. She had a pretty good defense against general insults, unless you knew what to say. I’ll never forget when someone made a comment on how she smelled, as politely as the person could mind you. She practically spent the whole next week living in the shower! She was such a drag to deal with at times.” I can tell that the everyone can feel Chika’s presence around them. I can sense her too, see her standing right in front of me, but I know I will never be able to hear her obnoxious laugh or touch her smooth skin again.

“I hated how fragile she was because I could never seem to fix her no matter what I tried.” I mutter quietly to myself. That’s not part of the script. Everyone must have heard me because the smiles start to fade. I know that Chika would have wanted everyone to remember the good times with her. She would have wanted everyone to leave happy or at least at ease. I see the ethereal shape of Chika dissipate into nothingness. Knowing what I need to do, I mentally trash the speech that I have spent the last week preparing for and spoke up again.

“That’s the biggest thing that I hated about her,” I almost yell, “That I could never be what she needed. Chika had a huge personality packed in her tiny body and I felt like I always held her back. When she would suggest a date at a festival or a zoo or a parade, I would almost always turn her down, knowing my anxiety would get a hold of me, and I would ruin the date. I always felt that every flaw of mine was not only carried by myself, but by her as well. And yet day in and day out she would look at me with that stupid grin on her face and say ‘I love you’. We were like fire and ice and yet she insisted that I made her happy. We could almost never come to an agreement on anything and we knew every trick to get under each other’s skin and yet her last moment was to shove me out of the way of some drunk driver." I gasp out. I feel my heart aching but I continue. I remember looking back at her in shock when she pushed me and I could have swore I saw her smile back at me.” I could feel tears roll down my face as I try to keep my voice level, and even though everyone was looking, I didn’t care. 

“I didn’t deserve someone so caring like her, and yet I was blessed with her love. I hated her because she stayed with me through 12 years of her life when she could have spent it with someone who understood her better than I ever could. So yes I hated Chika. I hated her so goddamn much, she drove me crazy! But for every bit that I hated her, I loved her tenfold!” My voice was starting to hitch. The silence was thick, not a soul dared to speak. _Everyone is staring, you should have stuck with the speech._ I ignore that thought and wait for a minute to regain my composure.

“I started this speech thinking that I could make everyone laugh, thinking that was what Chika would have wanted. But I’m sorry Chika, that is not how I want to honor you! I just can’t do things like you could, no matter how much I wish I could,” I say as a sense of defeat washes over me. I look down at the pulpit, too scared to look up at all of the confused and judging eyes. I hear one of the chairs move. I chance a look upwards. It was You. She has a stern look on her face and is marching towards me. She is going to hit me or yell at me, I just know it. I tense my muscles as gets closer, ready for the worst.

I brace for impact, but feel nothing. Well that’s not true, I feel two arms wrap tightly around me. “She would have loved it simply because it came from you” You whispered in my ear as she started to cry again. I couldn’t take it as I openly sobbed for my first time ever in public. And I don’t think I will ever look back at this moment in shame.

Ever.

**Author's Note:**

> So, small confession, I don't have anxiety or anything that Did has, so I don't know how well I depicted it. I know Dia is a little out of character, but her having anxiety problems and being a little pessimistic seems very possible to me. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed it and I'll see you again, hopefully in a happier story.


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